Messy
by Ink-About-It
Summary: A sweeping epic tale of fate and true love... Just kidding. Girl meets girl and they fall madly in bed. Then it gets complicated. (AU)
1. Chapter 1

**Messy**

A _Rizzoli & Isles_ FanFiction by Ink-About-It

**One**

* * *

The bass is thumping, the treble's thrumming and your body's humming – that's how you know it's going to be a good, good night. And to think you almost missed out.

Your besties practically chicknapped you from your place, wrestling clothes onto your body on the way out the door, but now you're glad you aren't stuck home alone processing over a tub of Rocky Road and channel surfing templates for true love on cable and Netflix.

You're also glad they didn't ask you to _talk_ about it. You don't want to talk to anyone about anything – you're all talked out. You just want that carefree feeling you get only when you're drinking and dancing with your girlfriends on a rare night out. Nothing else matters but this moment. The future can wait.

So you're having fun, bumping and grinding on the club's jam-packed dancefloor with your girl Riley, who can dance circles around anyone but you like to pretend you're keeping up. That's when you feel a pointed tap on your hip.

"Hey, I think you have an admirer… 1 o'clock."

She has to yell straight into your ear, but as soon as Susie says this, you know exactly who she's talking about. You've felt those eyes on you all night long like a gravitational pull and it's starting to make you a little imbalanced.

"Are you two gonna just eye-fuck each other all night, or what?" Riley chimes in, having noticed as well.

You laugh out loud because that's exactly what it is; and trust _her_ to always be so blunt. You don't answer though, just shrugging coyly because who really cares? Right now you just want to dance, and if it attracts a little attention, so be it.

You turn away as you continue to sway. The music seamlessly transforms into a relaxed rhythm; nothing but the drums and the bass to guide your body's mindless motion. It's like you're a marionette controlled by the ghostly strings of a four-four beat to the tempo of your own pulse. The vibrations of sound coming through the speakers are tangible kinetic energy, possessing your muscles and joints with an untameable urge to just move.

And then electricity. You weren't sure before, but when once again you're caught in a vortex of intense dark orbs, gazing at you from that same spot across the room, it becomes entirely possible that there's a charged current coursing right through you.

Boy, it's hot in here.

The mysterious figure barely moves or blinks, yet you falter. It's the strangest feeling stirring within you; that of being suspended in time and space, between reality and a dream simultaneously illuminated and distorted by strobe lights, lasers and smoke machines. Time pauses… only resuming with the quirk of a lopsided grin and your mouth mirrors it without forethought.

_She_ holds the strings, you realize.

Because you can almost feel the tug of her dilated pupils, the heat of her stare ghosting over your clammy skin to leave a trail of Goosebumps you can't logically explain in this crowded space, and so you tell yourself that you've had your last drink for the night.

You take a deep breath and lift your arms above you, manicured fingers running slowly through voluminous silky locks, short nails grazing your scalp while your hips rock from side to side in rhythm with the slow but riotous beat. Your high-heeled feet shift in time beneath you as you command a certain someone's spotlight in that short, black leather skirt and patterned, long-sleeve crop top that shows off your '_yoga body_' as your friends say.

Your eyes are half-lidded from the effects of the generous supply of free drinks throughout the night, but your answering gaze is unwavering, glued to the tall brunette with brooding good looks who's casually leaning against the bar – watching you back without a hint of shame.

Shameless.

That's the best word you can come up with to describe the way she is undressing you – item by item – with her guileless gaze. Attentive eyes latch onto you, travelling from your eyes to your lips, down your neck and over your chest… and you almost have to check if your bra hasn't spontaneously unclasped. Lower still, they trace over your bare stomach and a warm zephyr tickles your sides. You decide you must be only imagining your top riding higher up, but then…

You gasp, body slowing as you glance up, having momentarily shut your eyes. She sips straight from a glass bottle to cover a smirk and you almost draw blood from the lip wedged between your teeth.

Because then you feel your underwear glide_ slowly_ down over the curve of your hips and the swell of your ass, then descend your thighs like it's not all in your mind. Like you aren't in public with dozens of bodies between you and her, but just the couple of you in a silent, dimmed hotel room... waiting to taste each other for the first time.

You surprise yourself with that unexpected thought.

You've never met this woman, yet here you stand amidst a rolling sea of bodies – dumbfounded – feeling naked and raw under that penetrating gaze alone.

And you've never felt so sexy in your life.

* * *

Words are unimportant. Speech is almost out of the question when all you both need to communicate can be done through body language alone. The raw need and want pulsating through you translates flawlessly through your zealous lips and limbs.

She isn't much of a talker and you're grateful for that little fact. You're also grateful that she seems to have a firm grip on both your bearings, because you can't even recall how you two got back to your place, let alone decide on which part of her alluring body you want to touch first – so you just pull closer, hold tighter, kiss harder.

Her mouth tastes like some type of beer and a hint of mints as you meet in a messy but bruising kiss, propelling you both through the front door. The door urgently slams shut. She groans and you moan in turn as she spins you around and pushes you back against the solid piece of lumber, fixing you in place with the length of her body.

She feels absolutely sensational and you aren't surprised by the trickle of arousal that has been gradually soaking your panties, coating your inner thighs where you stand while she kisses you like all she wants is to be inside you one way or another.

Now that she has her hands on you – all over you – her intent is clearer than ever and you're surprising yourself every new second with how badly you want her too. You want her fingers running through your hair and outlining your jaw, hands sliding down your neck, fondling your breasts and caressing your stomach just as they are now, exploring you with the fluid exigency of a painter. Your hips want her hands on them, stroking upwards over your ribs and even further up until her fingertips have mapped you out over and over to the point where your skin aches for it.

It's scarily intense… for _you_… so you give into the feeling, slipping your trembling fingers under her shirt, because when was the last time you scared yourself lately?

You go into a momentary cardiac arrest when she suddenly pulls back. And then you're brought back to life by the sound of her voice. And fuck if she doesn't have the sexiest one you've ever heard.

"I'm gonna fuck you up against this door," she whispers against your lips, and with such veneration; as if she were reciting poetry to a long-time lover under the shade of a tree one Spring day – which is completely in contrast with her actual words and her hands' movements over your ass to bunch your skirt around your waist. If your underwear wasn't ruined before, this would have done it.

Your stomach is in Boy Scout knots and you're so turned on you could power the Sun. Your fingernails dig painfully into her warm skin, pulling her so close you're panting against her mouth. "Yeah," you consent, "Just do it."

Your eyes slam shut as two things happen in quick succession. First, this girl rips your panties off like they are made of rice paper. And then, before your mind or body can form a response, your leg's on her shoulder and she's knuckle-deep inside you.

You cry out in shock, clenching reflexively around her fingers. You didn't expect that, but then you surprise yourself by almost instantly settling into a rhythm. Your hips are once again controlled by her, working in counter with the sensual sucking of her mouth on your throbbing center and the punishing pace of her long digits as she fingers you into oblivion.

"Oh, wow. Oh _fuck_… Mm…mm… fuck!"

She slips in and out of you so easily you just know you're as wet as the ocean floor. You can't focus on anything at all but what's happening between your legs, even as you bang the back of your head against the door, hands unsure what to do with themselves. Your body's movements rattle the frame behind you, but it doesn't even cross your mind what your neighbors may think. You yourself can barely think.

Your orgasm is embarrassingly quick.

She quickly stands back up when you start sliding down the door, keeping you close, and shaking slightly with what you gather is silent laughter – and now you're blushing for more reasons than one. You didn't realize how wound up you were and you kind of want to push off of her and hide after she slowly slips out of you and pulls you close, but your legs can't stand it yet so you cling on.

"That never happens…" you finally say on a long exhale.

And again you're glad she isn't much of a talker because your brain is still offline and you're too busy trying to come down from a dizzying summit to explain yourself any further.

"Couch?" she asks simply, and after a moment you nod in earnest, shuddering still.

Although rest is the last thing on your minds.

You eventually realize that you're both still fully-clothed, apart from the sliver of material formerly your underwear, when you feel the buckle of her belt blocking the path your hand slides down her torso as she kisses you; as you taste yourself on her tongue. And as if mirroring your sentiments, she pulls away to pull your top over your head and toss it before tugging the cups of your lacy red bra down. You climb into her lap for better access and your hips move with the swirling of her tongue; around and around like an old record playing your favorite song.

Head thrown back, you bring hers closer after undoing your bra, and you swear you could cum like this. But ultimately you push her shoulders against the couch when you decide you want to see and feel her just as much as you want her touching you. So you make quick work of her white shirt and black bra.

She is unreal.

Your eyes greedily take her in, but your hands are quicker to touch. Hearts pound at the sound of her breathy groans and soft murmurs as you kiss her inked neck and chest, tracing the beautiful designs on her skin with your tongue.

Goosebumps prickle on her skin when your mouth moves down to her breasts. Your bodies are already covered in a light sheen of sweat as your short nails drag over her ridiculously defined stomach – which quivers at the touch – and after several torturous minutes, her hips roll beneath you, unable to help herself as she seeks more contact. You look up to find her licking her lips, looking at you through low lashes and pitch black eyes – time stops dead.

You hold onto her belt like you're on a mechanical bull when she suddenly pulls you in for a short but ravenous kiss, nipping your lips with her teeth as she lets you taste yourself once more. Then she pulls back and strokes her left thumb over your wet and swollen bottom lip. Out of habit, you lick your own lips, but when the tip of your tongue grazes the tip of her finger, giving her pause, your first instinct is to suck it into your mouth, tongue swirling around it before you've even thought it through.

She swallows visibly and you aren't sure if the look she gives you is terrifying or tantalizing – or both – and, not for the first time tonight, you feel a spark akin to incineration at this slight tipping of the scales. She slowly pulls her thumb out of your mouth with the first hint of reluctance you've detected from her all along, but before you can even entertain the idea of any doubts on her part, her gaze subtly darts down towards her own lap – where your hands are still gripping her belt.

Awareness floods back through your senses like a mob of escaped wild horses manifesting in an erratic hopscotch-heartbeat, but you feign nonchalance, releasing a nervous chuckle. You can literally feel the heat emanating from your face and ears as it meets the cool air of your living room, making you feel radioactive with desire yet also glowing in the dark with embarrassment when you find yourself curious how she tastes, having tasted yourself on her… but you hesitate.

Dark eyes still glued to yours, she lets her hands trail away from your body and slowly unbuckles her belt, smiling up at you when you don't stop her. You can tell she's a girl who knows what she wants, and you secretly wish that part of her would rub off on you tonight. Among other parts.

A thought crosses your mind and the unprompted smile you smile catches her curiosity.

"Something funny?" she asks.

You wordlessly manoeuvre off the couch onto your knees before her, and she doesn't hesitate to undo the top button and pull her dark jeans and underwear all the way off, boots following. She brings her hips closer to the edge of the couch and watches in anticipation as you caress her thighs, kissing teasingly down her stomach – licking the contours of her abs for long seconds, and then, with the same mischievous smile you smiled earlier, you boldly say, "I'm gonna fuck you with my mouth," before finally submerging your head in-between.

She immediately gasps when wet heat meets wet heat, jerking forward toward you like metal to magnet. You feel her swipe your hair and gather it into a loose fist as her eyes burn a hole through your forehead. Your own eyes are shut in concentration as you spread her lower lips apart, nose tickled by short coarse curls as you let your tongue and lips lick, loop, lure and lap at her pulsating clit like the cunning linguist you are. That's when she starts slurring so many different obscenities, they could make sailors blush.

Your ministrations are fast and furious but when you bring your fingers to her entrance, she roughly tugs on your hair, snapping your eyes back up to hers.

"Just your mouth," she husks and loosens her grip just as quickly, trusting you got the message.

For a naughty moment you wonder what would happen if you disobeyed, and the thrill that shoots through you at the prospect is quickly filed away for later processing because your current actions are using up all your attention.

This certainly isn't the way you had imagined your night would go – ending up topless and on your knees on your living room floor with your head buried between a beautiful stranger's legs – but here you are, and nothing else exists.

When she cums, it's dead-quiet.

Even though your jaw and tongue have been at it for a while, you're so engrossed you don't even realize it's happening until the grip on your hair tightens and you feel her body shake off the Richter scale. You look up, replacing your tongue with a thumb, just in time to catch her eyes slam shut, face contorting in breathless bliss as her mouth parts for a silent exclamation.

For a second, you can't help but stare as her body shivers, torso undulating with the lilt of her disjointed breathing, because there's never been a more beautiful sight.

Then in the next few moments, you're convinced she isn't human because no more than ten seconds later, she's back on you, urging you onto the living room carpet and climbing over you before your bodies can miss each other's heat for a moment longer. You breathe sharply through your nose and out into her mouth as she tastes herself on your lips and tongue, devouring your very essence as a result of her ferocity.

She may have caught her second wind, but you're suddenly winded.

Everything is fast and hard with her and you can barely catch up as your skirt makes its way off of you somehow and finally your entire body is pressed against hers. You both moan at the incredible awareness.

"Fuck…"

Your voice breaks like glass bottles in a bar fight when she presses her thigh between your legs, quickly building you up again on the leg you're straddling. Her hooded eyes bore into yours as you open wider and thrust upwards against her, both slipping and sliding over each other trying to get enough friction for some type of release.

You're insatiable.

Hips erratically in sync, the pace is primal. Your clit is on fire and you're already so close you can taste it. So close you're crazed and babbling and grabbing at anything you can get your hands on. Soft hair, hard muscle, slick skin… it doesn't matter what.

But when, after an eternity squeezed into a couple of minutes, she suddenly stops moving, a desperate whine pierces the air. You barely recognize it as your own.

"Not yet," she says, "Don't cum yet."

You're incredulous; too hysterical to wonder how she knew you were almost there as you whimper. "Oh fuck, you're crazy."

"Trust me."

When you try to force her hips against you, your wrists are swiftly trapped on either side of your head and held there as she holds still like this isn't the cruelest joke you've ever heard.

Your heart beats against your chest like a war gong and you feel like you're going insane.

You don't want to beg, if that's what she's expecting. You refuse to beg and so you don't. Not as she shifts to kneel between your legs, placing no pressure where you need it most, and lays the lightest whisper of a kiss on your neck.

You shake your head from side to side and uselessly push against her strong hands in defiance. You don't want this, these soft touches and caresses, when there's an inferno burning in the pit of your stomach. It hardly seems fair.

But she doesn't stop there.

On her way down, the tip of her tongue tickles the very point of a straining nipple and your back impatiently arches for more, but of course she pulls away.

"Fuck!" you scream at the top of your lungs, not finding any of this cute. She pauses for a moment… but only just. Then she teases the opposite nipple.

The change of pace has you unnerved and you can feel your mind slowly leaving your head. She's being a tease for a reason though.

"You ready?" she asks once she's mapped your whole upper body with her lips, and your entire body sighs in relief.

"Please please please please..." It accidentally slips out of your mouth on a desperate breath but you don't even care enough to care.

Her mouth covers yours to muffle your cries as she enters you with her three middle fingers, going as deep as she can, pushing against the back of her wrist with her hips and uses her socked toes for leverage.

"Mm!"

The whoosh of blood rushing around your head as it bobs along with the rest of your body…

The loud and explicit slurs coming out of your mouth and reverberating all around your apartment whenever your lips part momentarily…

The wet slap of her fingers ruthlessly penetrating your sex, curling up and hitting the right spot every single glorious Goddamn time while her thumb rubs your clit like it'll give her three wishes…

The staccato cadence of your shrill pants and her harsh breaths as the girl on top of you – inside of you – watches you, tattooing you onto her irises…

The sudden smack on her ass as you grab onto each cheek with both hands, advocating her missionary mission…

All these sounds make up the soundtrack to your building skyscraper of an orgasm; the best you'll ever have.

And when she whispers once more directly into your ear, cancelling out all the other noises that you can hear, everything goes quiet as you nosedive. "Let go."

* * *

**I-A-I**


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

The birds are chirping, the Sun is shining, and your body's hurting in places no one's even named yet. When none of this dulls the titanic presence of your hangover, that's how you know it's going to be a terrible, terrible morning. Terribly terrible.

You don't know what time it is yet, but you're so ready for it to be night again. You don't want to go anywhere or do anything today; you're so exhausted you just want to go back to sleep until the next blue moon. There's nothing to get up for anyway.

When your stomach growls in response, you wisely decide that sleep may have to wait.

First you swipe your hand around aimlessly searching for your phone. Your fingertips knock against a bedazzled weight and you grab it in time before it falls off the nightstand. It's a bright blur at first but once your vision focuses, you find you have some missed calls and unread texts.

You slowly roll onto your back, huff, and then sit up so you can read the screen without your eyes rolling in weird directions, but no matter what, you still feel nauseous. You yawn, combing through your hair to keep it away from your line of vision.

'_Where did you disappear to? Let me know you're safe. – Susie; 23:11'_

You send out a quick reply of "I'm home. I'm fine. Just hung over," and cross your fingers that nothing was misspelt before reading the next message.

'_I wouldn't say good-bye either if I had a hot piece of ass to sink my teeth into. I want details when I call tomorrow. xo – Riley; 23:15'_

This causes a brief smile to grace your lips. You're kinda dreading it, but either way she'll call or trespass your space, so you scroll to the next text.

'_UR Phone Number has won $500,000-'_

The spam message is deleted before you can even finish forming the words with your mouth. In what world does anyone randomly win a half-mill without having entered any competition whatsoever, and what self-respecting company uses short-hand text-speak to deliver such news? They're so annoying and now you're too annoyed to even bother checking who the next message in your inbox is from before you're reading it.

'_Hey. I miss you. : ) Can I come see you later today? – Denise; 06:40'_

Your heart stops.

It actually feels like an anvil is crushing it with the extent of your shock and you suddenly have this sick feeling in your stomach that isn't from last night's debauchery. This is exactly the last person in the world you want to see or talk to right now and you have half a mind to just delete the text and block her number… but you can't bring yourself to do it.

And sure enough, the phone rings. Denise's name flashes on your screen, along with a silly picture of her pulling a funny face, but you continue to ignore the call because you have no energy to hear her voice. When your _Jessie J_ ringtone is almost halfway through, it suddenly stops ringing.

You wait a few moments… Nothing. A sigh of relief resolves some of the tension in your shoulders.

The jarring silence forces you to have a look around. The place is a royal mess. Your bed covers are on the floor and your sheets are damp with last night's… _activities_. And only then does it occur to you.

"Shit." You cover your face with both hands and groan into your palms. "What have I done?"

But before you can even process, you're interrupted.

"Maura? Babe, you in?"

You immediately pull at the sheets to cover yourself and your head whips around so fast you hear and feel a slight snap in your neck. You groan into your hands again when familiar footfalls ascend in volume, stopping inside your bedroom. "What are you doing here?" you ask without looking up.

You really aren't ready for this.

"You weren't answering your phone…" she says distractedly. Despite her tough, alpha-butch exterior, her voice is quite soft, which used to tug at your heart-strings, but right now it just makes you want to smash the damn guitar into the ground, pour vodka and light a match.

You take a few slow, deep breaths as she takes in the state of the room at large before settling her gaze back on you. Then you look up at her with your blood-shot eyes and pillow-face, not to mention the undeniable sex-hair. "I don't have time for this, Denise. Please just… show yourself out."

Your whisper's so soft that your lips barely move at all, but she doesn't take the hint that you're trying to keep your head from exploding. She's actually a bit taken aback by your tone.

She steps closer. "Maura, what's going on? Baby, talk to me."

It makes you angry when she acts like she has no idea what happened. By playing dumb she's implying you're enough of an idiot to fall for it, or at least that's how you feel.

"You don't get to call me that anymore. We're no longer together. Please go away."

"No longer- Are you breaking up with me?"

"You made that choice yourself when you walked away from me."

Your ex kneels beside the bed, looking straight at you and you know she's changed tactics. You take that as a small victory in this war on love, but keep your guard up.

"Okay, look. I know I said some things, but I didn't mean any of it. You know me, I… I wasn't myself. You know me, Maura. Come on."

There's a spot in the distance that you stare off into as you faintly shake your head, but no words come out. You're all talked out.

"Baby, look at me." She gently cradles your chin and tilts it to make you face her, and it's all you can do not to cry. Because when she looks at you like that, all sad puppies and clubbed baby seals, you can feel yourself almost giving in. "Maura…"

You wait for it, breath suspended in your chest, even though you know exactly what she's about to say.

"Please forgive me. These past few days were hell. I can't not be with you…"

Your heart slowly swells with anticipation because she knows just what buttons you need pushed in this moment. You try to fight it. "No, just no. I'd rather be without all the drama. It's so draining. I- I can't… anymore."

"You can't mean that," she's quick to interject. "You're everything to me and I know I messed up; I was selfish a-a-and stupid, but I promise you it won't ever, _ever_ happen again. This isn't us; fighting over nothing-"

"But see, that's exactly it! It isn't _nothing_ that we're fighting about. You really hurt me, Denise and by saying it's nothing, you're undermining my feelings. How is that okay with you? What makes you think a few days apart will make me forgive and forget the fact that you called me a rich, spoilt bitch with a sex addiction!"

"I never said that! …Or _meant_ that."

"It doesn't matter! That's what you implied and it shattered me." The confession reverberates throughout the room and suddenly there are no traffic noises or birds chirping or anything at all. The tension grows like a blow-up elephant filling the room. "If I treated you the way you treated me, you'd hate me."

She's hurt by that last bit; you can tell by the way her eyes blink and her mouth opens and closes as her thoughts stumble around in her head. You look away.

"I- Babe, it- Shit… When I said those things I only just meant that I had other plans already and I couldn't drop them for…" She tapers off, knowing there's no right way to finish that sentence. "Shit. I mean honestly, I can't even remember what I said, but I wish I'da stayed and spent the night with you. I know I really fucked up this time."

"Yeah," you nod, fighting tears at the memory of her slamming the door shut behind her, leaving you in tears with the new lingerie set you had bought on a whim. "You did."

She's quiet again, unable to look you in the eyes.

You tug the sheets closer around you even though she's seen you naked more times than anyone, but in light of current circumstances, you feel overexposed like a bad photograph. You're about to ask her again to leave when she speaks.

"So…" she sighs heavily, head in her hands, "But then- how do we move on from this? What can I do to make it okay again? Tell me, I'll do it."

You lick the dryness from your lips. "I think the best thing would be for us to part permanently."

She finally looks at you again.

"What!" You wince as your head throbs and she quietens down although with no less desperation in her voice. "No, no, no. Baby, I messed up but to say we're over would be to throw away everything we've worked so hard towards… This is our life, Maura. Come on. Why would you throw it away? I'm not saying it's your fault or that it'll be perfect from now on," she admits as her hand covers your knee. "But I'm in this for as long as we're both still willing to try."

She leans in and kisses your forehead. You take a deep breath, keeping a wave of nausea at bay for a moment longer.

"Let's try again, babe." She smiles shyly, eyebrows drawn together. "Come on."

"Deni… Studies have shown-"

She sighs, cutting you off. "Fucking hell, babe. Please don't start throwing that science shit at me when you know I can't defend myself. Who fucking cares what scientists in lab coats have to say right now? This is between us."

At this point you're more annoyed that she interrupted you than what she's actually saying.

"I do! I care. And they say that couples in cyclical relationships tend to have more problems and are more impulsive about major relationship transitions which results in them being less satisfied with their partner, having worse communication, lower self-esteem… Lower satisfaction, higher uncertainty and more conflict; that sounds a lot like us."

"Then let's talk it out. Let's fix it so we're solid again. Bam, there's your communication. And I've never been so satisfied with anyone in my entire life. If you're not satisfied with me, tell me what you want and I'll seriously change. No joke. I'm not going anywhere ever again. How can I show you I'm committed to this; to us? You wanna move in together? We can! We'll get a puppy and whatever else you want. Name it…"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about."

She gives you that look like there's no way you're both having the same conversation.

"Impulsive decisions. We just broke up; we're nowhere near ready to move in together, let alone..."

She keeps quiet but you can tell she's a little frustrated about not having any way of understanding what it is she can do to put this mess behind you. She rubs her face up and down with both hands, breathing deeply.

"I… Please…," she says, sadness seeping into her voice. "Please, I love you."

That's how you crack. Your bottom lip trembles and hot tears make your eyes shut on reflex. You inhale and exhale shakily when she wipes a tear from your face and whispers.

"I love you so, so much, Maura. Tell me you don't love me too."

And there it is – the loophole you can't defend your_self_ against. It isn't fair. She knows you can't lie.

So that's how you lose the war.

Because way deep down – so deep it reaches and penetrates the surface on the other side, moving right through you like a red-hot sword – you believe she's _it_ for you. You see a future with her sometimes, if you squint, and other times quite clearly, and that _has_ to be enough to stick it out. Starting from scratch with someone else almost feels more insane than collecting the pieces every now and then with the Devil you know.

You've both been down this road before. Breaking up is like some sort of foreplay for you and although the two years you've been together have been riddled with imperfections, it's still Denise, you know?

It's still the same sweet girl who brought you coffee and a flower every day after class for two months until you agreed to go on a date with her. She's still the crazy magician who made most of your insecurities disappear with that first kiss in a phone booth while hiding out from the rain. Still the beautiful soul who accompanied you to your father's funeral and stayed up all night with you until you'd cried yourself to sleep. She's still the first girl you ever let make love to you, one ordinary summer night after walking on the beach and sharing your dreams.

Denise is your rock and even if she isn't your last, she'll always be your first.

She's still her, even when she's doing stupid shit like breaking plans with you to chill with her friends, or lashing out at you when she's in a bad mood, using every single uncertainty you have about yourself and this relationship as a weapon against you. Even then, when you're telling her to get lost and that you hate her – you don't. Not truly, anyway.

Because then she comes back the next day or so, wielding a white flag, and wins you back with a few honest words and caresses, promises and touches that make you feel secure again. And then you're falling all over again.

And this time is no different.

You love this idiot so much, and you know she loves you too. So you just nod, all talked out.

It's pretty fucking distracting though… the thought that your recently reinstated girlfriend is busy holding you in her all-encompassing arms, hypnotically stroking your back and kissing the crown of your head… all with the aroma of another girl still lingering in the air. The irony isn't lost on you, but what's disturbing is how preoccupied you are. All you can think about is a certain pair of deep, dark eyes that can look straight through you.

And it occurs to you that maybe last night you were just looking for someone to remind you of her. Denise has that tall, toned and tanned body that can only be a result of great DNA and spending a ridiculous amount of time in the gym, and she has dark brown eyes which disappear behind slits every time she smiles, bringing out those adorable dimples. Actually, the more you think about it, the more sense it makes.

But there's suddenly something missing. You doubt it's something as silly as a difference in haircut, but you can't quite figure out what it might be so you try your best to ignore the vivid thoughts. You run your fingers over her short midnight hair and try to relax into the moment, breathing your girlfriend's musk in until she's the only thing on your mind. And it works.

When she goes in for a kiss, you shake your head, pleading morning breath and alcohol and she understands even though you've never been insecure about those things.

"I should… I should shower actually."

She smirks at you, running her long fingers through your messy honey-blonde locks. "It's okay. I know you were touching yourself last night; it's no biggie."

You shake your head again because that's not true, but that's not it either. Because then your body turns on you, breaking up this reunion.

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

You rush to the bathroom, almost tripping over a stray shoe in your haste. The scene you make is about as pretty as it sounds as you immediately empty your whole stomach's contents into the toilet bowl. You just knew this morning would be terrible.

A while later, when all you can muster are dry heaves, you hear her voice.

"I'm gonna come back later, okay?" she announces from the hallway, already on her way out. She doesn't wait for an answer and somehow you sense something's off, but it's the last thing on your mind right now.

From your place on the cold, tiled floor, you catch sight of the admission stamp on your inner wrist from the club last night. You sigh for the umpteenth time this morning and shake your head. You feel grubby, but you're not physically up for taking a shower. Standing at all…

You end up taking a long, hot bath instead, drowning your sorrows in a tub of scalding bathwater. As it cools a little and your body gradually goes limp, you slowly submerge your head underwater, staring up at the rippling ceiling as bubbles float up and pop at the end of their journey.

In a sudden cascade of overdue processing, you feel like you're a bubble that hasn't burst yet, simply floating about, avoiding the surface.

You wonder what you're so afraid of.

Then you think about the night before. Disjointed images flash behind your eyelids. You can't believe any of what has happened in the past twelve hours and almost wish you had alcohol-induced amnesia so you wouldn't have to deal with it. You've never ever gone and had unprotected sex with a random stranger like that, no matter how badly you and Denise have fought. You wonder what you were thinking, if at all?

But the fucked up thing, you think, is that a part of you loved it. You think it's messed up because you aren't _that_ girl… but apparently you are. Because it was intense… and different from what you're used to and though you aren't sure if that other girl will even remember you tomorrow, something tells you you'll definitely remember her.

Whoever she is.

You finally come up for air and clean yourself up.

It isn't until you go back to your bedroom, towel-clad with your hair dripping onto your shoulders and down your back, that you discover a note lying haphazardly on the floor. You pick it up and gasp before reading it where you stand.

'_Thanks for last night._

_- Jane'_

"Jane…" you whisper, briefly smiling to yourself without permission. That's her name then. And this is the most she's relayed to you since you met her.

Then you wipe that smile off of your face and shake your head at the absurdity that you did all those things with someone whose name you didn't even know, or at least you can't remember if names were ever exchanged. And also because you're back together with your ex-_ex_-girlfriend.

Why was everything so complicated? You _really_ wish you couldn't remember a thing from last night, but then again, how would you explain the state of your bedroom.

You're not sure why, but something compels you to flip the note over.

'_We'll talk about this later._

_- Denise'_

**I-A-I**


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

She yawns so loudly people turn to blatantly stare at her, mouth indecently wide open for a young lady having Sunday brunch at a restaurant in the nicer part of Town. Humming flatly to herself once her mouth is finally shut, a sluggish hand adjusts the large, dark _Marc Jacobs_ sunglasses shielding her tired eyes. "I feel like shit in a blender," she grumbles.

You and Susie groan in unison.

"Thanks a lot, Ri, for _that_ wholesome image."

"If I hadn't already thrown up earlier, I'd be regurgitating right now."

"You know what makes _me_ wanna _regurgitate_? The _word_ regurgitate. Cool it with the $10 words," she grumbles. "Whose bright idea was it to go out last night anyway? And to get out of bed at all."

"Yours," you both answer again, getting a scowl in return.

"Not that it's such a bad idea. I doubt I would have eaten at all if I was at home," you add, trying to convince yourself as much as anyone that staying in bed all day would have been counterproductive.

"Me too," says Susie. "And as hungry and dehydrated as I am, I have no desire to feel any worse than I do in this moment." And she sounds it too. Sometime between you leaving the club and now she lost her voice, so whenever she speaks it sounds like she's in a lot of pain.

Riley grins. "You should've seen her last night, M. She almost drank _me_ under the table."

"Our Susie?" You lift an eyebrow at your fellow nerdy friend, unable to imagine her getting as wasted as Ms Cooper here tends to. Actually, you can't even remember if there was ever a time when these two were left alone to their own devices. They are total opposites so Riley must have corrupted her.

"Yeah, apparently you missed out on me getting all _Coyote Ugly_ up in there. Or at least that's what _she_ says," she points to Riley, "I can't remember anything."

You laugh despite your headache, the crazy thought of Susie Chang dirty-dancing on the bar easily erasing the earlier image Riley gifted you.

"I would never lie about that. I even had it on video, but you deleted it on some internet-hating tip. I wasn't gonna post it or anything."

"Even so, I'm glad I had the forethought to erase it. The internet immortalizes human stupidity and I, for one, would rather not even have the possibility exist."

Riley lowers her sunglasses just so she can roll her eyes at her.

"I'm glad you two had fun then," you chuckle into a mug of coffee, eyes dropping to scan the menu in front of you.

Riley settles on a smirk, laughter too jarring and painful in her state. "Not as much fun as _you_ had, I'm sure."

You open your mouth to speak, knowing very well that you have no response to disguise the blush growing on your face. The waitress comes back to take your orders right at that moment, thankfully interrupting Riley's trail of thought. You all glance at each other and shrug, tacitly deciding to go ahead and order the usual.

Not even half a minute later, a familiar bouncy but hurried click of heels approaches your table and you all turn to greet the arrival of the last member of the M.A.R.S sisterhood.

Riley scowls harder than she has all day. "Oh, fuck _you_, Anna. Fuck you very much," she says, sounding incredibly annoyed.

Anna laughs. "Bitch, don't hate on me just because I woke _up_ like this." She gestures to herself, and of course she looks as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever having foregone Girls' Night to spend it with her boyfriend on his last night in Town.

In her cute little lacy dress that shows off her legs and arms, her hair tied back in a neat bun to keep her hair away from her fresh face, punctuated with a pop of colour on her full lips, the rest of you at least _feel_ like lepers even though you all cleaned up pretty good. Hangovers are enough to make anyone feel like that.

"Sorry I'm late, y'all. Had to get a cab."

"You look really happy for a girl who just sent her man off to war."

Anna just rolls her eyes as she settles into the chair between you and Riley after placing her shopping bags on the floor. "He's an electrical engineer who designs weapons or whatever at Raytheon; he isn't in the actual army so he's perfectly safe. _And_…" she grins that grin you all know too well, "We had a nice, long good-bye, if you know what I mean."

A hushed chorus of girlish giggles rings out from around the table, even though Riley's laughter starts off as a scoff. Anna and her boyfriend are just so perfect for each other it's enough to make any pessimist puke, but for you they are the 'unicorn couple' and you're absolutely in love with their relationship. They're practically married.

You know Riley only throws shade because, well, because she's Riley. But also because somewhere deep down she's a little jealous. You don't blame her though, you're a little jealous yourself.

"Enough about you, Army Wife, our very own Maura the Scorer here got laid last night. And she's been dying to tell us all about it."

And suddenly the spotlight is back on you. You blush more under the scrutiny.

"Oh…" Anna's eyes are surprised but you can tell she's hiding some other sort of emotion, "So, you and Denise are back on?"

"Fuck, no," Riley snorts before you can answer. "She met someone at the club last night."

"Oh!" Anna's face is nothing if not purely excited this time. Her eyes grow wide in that creepy doll way that lets you know she won't let this go until she knows the **who-when-how-why-say **_**what**_**?** of it all. She claps her hands together like a cheerleader saying, "Oh, my gosh this is so exciting. You met someone new!"

"And they disappeared without even a cursory farewell," Susie chimes in, genuinely miffed about being stranded with Riley without a warning.

"I know, I'm sorry. It must have slipped my mind," you shake your head, sorry but not sorry.

"It's okay, I was just worried."

"She picked up a girl from a classy night club, not the friggin' red light district," reasons Riley. "She was fine. Now, stop stalling, M. Everyone's here now so you don't have to repeat the story later. I want the dirty deets. Everything, everything, everything."

"Okay, maybe not _every_thing," says Susie, a little shy around certain subjects, and both Anna and Riley look at her like WTF?

"Nothing must be held back," demands Riley.

"Or just tell us what you're comfortable telling us," Anna concedes, not wanting to pressure you but knowing how Riley can get all dog-with-a-bone about your love life; especially since it's often so tragic.

These are the three girls who are always there to put you back together whenever you and your girlfriend are 'on a break', but Riley – _surprise-surprise_ – was the one who hated Denise's guts from the very start, and you best believe she is a champion grudge-holder. You know she calls Denise _D-bag_ or _Puta_ when you aren't around so it makes things super awkward, like that one birthday party when Denise told you to make a wish and Riley said wish for a better girlfriend in a purposely loud stage-whisper, but you've since learnt to keep the two from ever meeting.

But with each break-up, Susie and Anna have also grown a tad weary of your recurring girlfriend. Luckily though, they're much more polite about it. They're all actually really good friends and you don't know where you'd be without them.

You met Susie in class on your first day at BCU. After hitting it off immediately, you both headed back to her dorm to either study, have a Doctor Who marathon or play Klingon monopoly and that's when you met Susie's roommate, Anna.

A half-naked Anna who was busy getting ready to go out with her friend, but not before you could have a shoegasm over her drop-dead delicious _Steve Madden_ stilettos. You both had a lengthy conversation about fashion while Susie gave her own two cents about whether she liked this dress or that, not yet all that into clothing that didn't out her as a massive geek.

Then Anna's friend barged in and went straight into a tirade about having nothing to wear as she rifled through Anna's clothes before even noticing that there were two other people in the room. Anna promptly scolded Riley for being rude – story of her life – and it turned out she even recognized you from when she dated someone from your high school because you were the only white girl with rhythm at prom. Small world. You all ended up going out together and you've been inseparable ever since.

Which is great, except when they're all up in your business.

"Eh-vah-ree-thing. All of it." Riley taps the table for each syllable, standing firm in her request for a play-by-play of the previous night and you know it's a losing battle so you just take a deep breath and go for it.

"Wait, I should order first," Anna interrupts, calling the waitress over.

"Ugh! I already ordered for you."

"You lying liar you," she gasps to an impatient Riley.

As Anna places her overly detailed order, being ever so fussy since she used to be an overweight toddler, the waitress keeps having to ask her to repeat herself, which would have been annoying if the girl wasn't so clearly and adorably taken with her.

"By the way, bitches, you're all helping me move tomorrow. No excuses," says Riley.

"We already agreed," you nod.

"I did no such thing," says Anna without turning away from the scribbling waitress.

"Oh, I see…" Riley simply nods her head. Anyone who knows this girl knows she's up to something.

"Shut up," says Anna, "You know I was kidding."

"No, it's fine. You don't have to help if you don't want to," she shrugs.

"You know, 'whiny bitch' isn't a good colour on you."

"Keep digging, Farrell."

"Fine, I'm sorry. And I will help you move. And unpack if it makes you happy, Your Highness."

"Ha. Ha. You had me at fine."

"How does that always work?" asks Susie, pushing her glasses along the bridge of her nose and pondering what exactly Riley has over Anna that could be so bad.

"Because she's a jerk. Why are you moving again?"

"Because… dorm life's for losers."

"Oh, shut up."

Susie says, "I bet she's moving so she can have sleepovers with her gentlemen friends."

"Well, that _is_ a bonus… Emphasis on _bone_…" she grins when her words having their desired effect.

"Lalalalalalalalalalala…"

"Oh, grow up. You were the one who was packed a month early for our trip last summer and now you're shy? Not to mention last night."

"What happened last night?" asks Anna.

"Last night has nothing to do with anything. And as for packing early, why do you say that like it was a bad thing? It never hurts to be prepared for anything."

"Yeah well, where's the fun in that? I mean, what did you even need to pack for anyway? It was a nudist colony, for crying out loud."

"Right, because nudist colonies don't have that silly little thing called weather. I guess you're right, what was I thinking?"

Riley grins in spite of herself, loving it when your mousy friend dishes out the snark. And her voice is ridiculous right now. "How were you so okay with that trip, yet you're squeamish about sex?"

"Because…" she shrugs, "Nudity doesn't always mean sex. I'm quite comfortable in my body."

"Just not with someone _else_ in your body, huh?"

"I just walked straight into that one, didn't I?"

"Oh yeah. So, since you're so comfortable, you wouldn't mind stripping right now?"

"Not at all." Susie pretends to reach for the zipper of her denim jacket. "D'you dare me?"

You crack up. Your friends are crazy. "Keep your clothes on, ladies."

On the other hand, the waitress blushes at the tail-end of their conversation and Anna gives her an apologetic smile, dangerously bordering on flirtatious, before she leaves to take care of her order.

"What?" she says when you all give her a look after the waitress has left. "Being friendly helps get better service. It's harmless… So, you were saying, Maura?"

And we're back.

"Oh uhm… I…" Your nerves have you blushing so hard you have to hide behind your large coffee mug.

"Oh. My. Gosh," Anna gasps.

"Oh, my Yoda." Susie whispers in disbelief.

"OH MY GOD!" shouts Riley. Really, Ri? _Really_?

"Would you guys stop? You're making a scene."

"Oh, my God! _That_ good, huh?"

"I'm not telling if you're going to be so juvenile about it."

"Okay, okay, I promise."

The other three of you look at each other. It must be a cold day in pig-flying hell because Riley's never been so agreeable.

You exhale shakily, giggles bubbling up from an unknown place deep within your chest. You feel a little hysterical at the thought of… _last night_. "It was… it was intense."

They all shift to rest their chins on their palms, elbows on the table as if they had perfectly choreographed the move. It makes you even more nervous when you notice your hands twitching slightly around the cup.

"I, uh… I don't really know what to say here, I mean..." Your shoulders shrug up to your ears as the pitch of your voice ascends of its own accord. You recross your legs and clear your throat but say nothing more, deciding you've had too much coffee.

"What's her name?" Anna asks, laying her free hand on your wrist with a relaxed smile.

You glance up for only a second. "Her name's Jane. That's pretty much all I know about her."

"What did she say to you when you met?" asks Susie.

"I honestly can't remember. Hello, maybe?"

"That is a very underrated pick-up line," she quips.

"Well if you've heard her voice, even the worst pick-up line would have sounded so, so sexy."

"Ooh…" they all coo at once.

You laugh, feeling simultaneously more ridiculous and at ease. "I'm serious. Her voice is just," you visibly shiver.

"Enough said," smirks Riley. "So where did you guys go?"

"Yeah. Did you have hot dirty bathroom sex?" Anna sing-songs in a hushed voice, eliciting another round of chuckles.

"Please tell me you didn't," says Susie although she's smiling.

"Please tell me you _did_," says Riley, practically on the edge of her seat.

"Please tell us **some**thing," is Anna's plea, her hand squeezing your wrist for emphasis.

"No, we did not have… _intercourse_…" you whisper before resuming your normal volume, "in a public bathroom."

"Dark alley?" asks Riley. "Backseat of her car? Against a tree in the woods? Abandoned barn? Her Grandma's basement?"

"No!" you laugh, "To all of those options. Why would- We went back to _my_ place."

Three sets of manicured eyebrows lift in surprise.

"You invited a complete stranger to your-"

"Sh!" Riley interrupts Susie's rant with a simple hand gesture. "Save the lectures for later. Carry on, M."

"I can't even remember much about how we got there, honestly. I just remember being back at my place and we were… I mean, we barely made into the house… she had me up against the door and…" You cover your face in embarrassment. "I have never climaxed so fast in my entire life, especially not initially."

Riley is the first to laugh, but when Anna can't keep it at bay, she too joins in. They laugh so hard, Susie also contracts it and soon all four of you are wiping tears from your eyes.

"_Girrrl_…" the word is dragged out until Anna can string a sentence together, "Trust me, it's happened to the best of us. Just as long as you didn't roll over and fall asleep afterwards."

Carefully dabbing a napkin under your eyes, you turn your wide eyes toward your friend. "It's happened to you too? Within a minute?"

She shakes her head. "Not me personally, but definitely someone else _who just so happens to be sitting at this table_." Her last ten words are out in a rush before she leans away just in time to dodge a smack from Riley.

"That was like, one time! I told you that was a secret!"

The rest of you can't stop laughing at her expense though.

"Oh, get over it. See, you aren't the only one."

"Whatever. Anyway, _technically_ it doesn't even count because I was flying solo." She makes a crude hand gesture.

"Ope. There goes my appetite," says Susie, blushing harder than you were earlier.

"Speaking of appetites," you interpose now that you're in a more open mood, "So, we move to the couch, right? And I… Okay, so is it okay if I tell you guys something really, I dunno, it's just something I haven't been allowed the time to process just yet and I was wondering if any of you have ever felt this way too? With guys, of course."

"Shoot," says Susie and you smile at her knowing full well she is a novice at all of this.

"Okay, so firstly, her body – wow. And she had tattoos and piercings which was a total turn-on."

Anna fans herself. "Uh-huh…"

You can tell by their faces that they're expecting the best and worst.

"But then she sort of… well _I_ sort of sucked her thumb into my mouth and then she asked me to _head south of the border_… and I did… and I really, really, I mean _really_ enjoyed it. I mean, I've done it before many times, but I've never enjoyed it so much before. Is this how it is with a new partner, or was I doing it wrong all along?"

"Maybe it's because… eh, I got nothin'," says Susie.

"How did she ask you to eat her out?" asks Riley in the most serious tone.

"She didn't say much, she just… I dunno. She unbuckled her belt, and I took the hint."

"Ah… so you like being told what to do; not asked?" she concludes.

You ponder that statement as the waitress arrives with all your food, naturally leaving Anna's plate for last. "There you go, ladies. Enjoy your meal," she smiles politely at all of you, lingering on Anna.

"Thank you so much for the excellent service," she smiles back, as charming as ever. That girl didn't stand a chance.

"Wow, that was fast," observes Chang. "And they didn't mess up my order this time."

"See? I told you," shrugs Anna, "A little flirting goes a long way."

"Only if you're a girl. When guys do it, it's creepy. Let's be honest."

"That's _mostly_ true. Oh, and by the way, M, there's absolutely nothing wrong with being a little submissive in the bedroom if you get off on it."

Susie narrows her eyes in thought. "When you say submissive, I automatically think handcuffs and whips… And 50 Shades of Grey."

"Eww, no," Anna shakes her head. "50 Shades was insufferable."

"And yet you love the Twilight series so much you had us camping out for hours just to get tickets to the last one they put out. Your moral compass is mind-boggling."

Having tasted her food and slowly chewed and swallowed before leisurely sipping on her drink to wash it down, Riley totally ignores them and asks you, "So… did she spank you, tie you up and pull your hair?"

You almost choke on your salad. "No… well, I may have smacked her butt at one point…"

"Ha! Atta girl." She genuinely laughs this time.

"…after she had me pinned to the floor…"

"Ooh…" Three pairs of eyes are back on you.

"…after she pulled my hair while I was performing cunnilingus. It actually sounds a lot more sinister than it was, I promise."

"As long as it was consensual, emphasis on the sssensual…" Anna playfully drags out the '_s_' and '_l_' sounds for emphasis before she has a bite of her meal.

You spear your salad with a fork. "I ejaculated."

A collective chorus of choking fits accompany your confession.

"You sure saved the best for last," cackles Anna behind a hand meant to stifle her overzealous laughter.

"Well, _you_ didn't see her earlier," chimes Riley, "I almost had to ask the maître'd for a wheelchair the girl could barely walk."

Susie pushes her plate away. "Next time we have this conversation, could we do it when it's less hazardous to my health?"

"If there even is a next time," you scoff, mindlessly playing with your food.

Anna looks genuinely concerned when she turns to you. "Aren't you going to see her again?"

"I don't know," you shrug, remembering you don't even have her number. Or any more space in your love life. "I don't think so."

"Do you want to?"

"Does it matter?"

Riley uses her sage advice voice to say the following: "Now, now… Just cause she made you squirt doesn't mean you have to marry her. Whether you do see her again or not, either way I'm so happy for you."

You scoff again. "For having a one night stand?"

"For finally adding another person to your sexual history. I knew going out would get you out of that post-relationship funk one way or another. You can thank me by finding out if your bad girl has a bad boy brother."

You roll your eyes trying to stifle a smile. "Will do."

"God, I'm so glad you've finally moved on. I mean jeez, how many times can a girl-"

"_Watch it_…" warns Anna, knowing she's about to delve into sensitive territory for you.

"What? Rockmond is an asshole with a jerk complex. There, I said it," is her deadpan retort.

"Ri, stop," says Susie as your guard goes up again. This is exactly what you were dreading.

"Why? It's not like they're together anymore anyway."

And that is your cue… "Well," you sigh, looking anywhere but into anyone's eyes, "We are."

The table goes silent all around once again, eyes darting every which way but to meet yours.

Riley's eyes blink so much you're afraid she'll fly off as she tries to comprehend your statement. "I'm sorry, what?"

"We're back together. As of this morning. She apologized and I forgave her so I would appreciate it if you would stop speaking ill of my girlfriend."

Riley is always disappointed to find out you're back together with Denise, and now more than ever. "You really shouldn't have done that," she sneers humorlessly, shaking her head. "Lemme guess, she pulled the whole, '_Say you don't love me and break out in hives_' bit?"

"Ri-"

"Susie, what? You hate her too. We _**all**_ think you're too good for her, M."

"Riley!"

"Fine!" She abruptly stands up, almost knocking her chair off balance. "Motherfucking nature's calling anyway, excuse me."

Anna silently stands up as well with an apologetic look in your direction, following her friend to the restroom to make sure she calms down before she comes back.

"Wow," exclaims Susie, sounding like there's bad reception in her throat. "That just happened."

**I-A-I**


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

After driving home from an awkward meal of epic proportions, you shut your front door behind you, toss your keys, kick your shoes off along the way and fall back on your couch in an exhausted heap. Even though Riley sort of apologized for her outburst when she got back, the big elephant in the room stifled the free flow of any further conversation.

You almost wish you hadn't brought the Denise situation up at all because you could literally see the pity in their eyes whenever they would dare to meet yours. That's the last thing in the world you want your friends to feel for you, but you just realised you have become that girl in cautionary tales on relationships.

It makes you angry though. It's not like they have any right to judge. Is everything really so black and white when everyone is all sorts of shades in-between?

You feel a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Hey, baby. You look tired."

You wear an easy smile and sigh. "Mm…"

She runs her fingers through your hair in that way that always makes you sleepy and you don't fight the familiar feeling. "I hope you don't mind me waiting in here for you."

You lick your dry lips. "I don't."

"Good." Denise settles down on the coffee table, facing you with expectant eyes but she says no more. This must be her 'we need to talk' face.

"If you planned on us talking, we should do it before I fall asleep."

She gives you a brief smile before talking into her lap where her hands fidget. "Was that note…" She clears her throat. "Did you have someone over last night? Here?"

You immediately sit up. "Yes."

You can tell she hates it… the thought of someone else's hands on you. Touching you… You stiffen when you remember what took place on this very couch… and the floor… and an involuntary glance at the front door has your temperature rising in a panic. If Denise even knew the half of it, she may not still be here.

"She was just a… a random girl, right? It didn't mean anything?" Though posed as a question, her tone is pleading.

You can't stand to look at her so you stare at her hands as well, mumbling into the quiet of your living room. "No. She's a stranger."

And even though you know that the right answer has some truth to it, you wonder if perhaps it isn't the only truth. _Did_ last night mean anything?

Your eyes register movement and you lose your thought-trail when Denise nods to herself as if she has made sense of it all. "So, you were upset… had a few drinks… and someone just happened to be in a position to take advantage of your vulnerability," she tells herself out loud. "And we were sorta broken up, so I get it. This _Jane_-person? She doesn't mean anything… Right?"

"Denise…" You place your palms on her lap. "You have to understand that even though I was angry and sad and hurt and hadn't set out to bring anyone home with me, I was still a consenting adult. I am not a victim. But now that we're back together, I don't want this hanging over us. It was just a one-night… _thing_. I don't _plan_ on ever repeating it."

"I know, I know. I just… I guess I feel a little guilty because if it wasn't for me-"

"Sh… I already forgave you. I love you," you say, hoping it's enough to close this weird conversation.

She smiles, eyes disappearing into slits and dimples denting her cheeks. She leans in and kisses your waiting mouth before pulling back. "I love you too… See? We can communicate just fine."

You smile back because hers is infectious. All the anger, sadness and some of the hurt of the past week is like water off a duck's back and you just want to not have that baggage for a while yet. "Thank you for being so understanding."

"Of course…" She kisses the crown of your head and rubs her hand up and down your arm. "If anything, you're the one who's been understanding… I want this to work more than anything."

You sigh, feeling a bit like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, relieved that everything seems to be back to normal. You don't know what sort of reaction you were expecting from her, but this easy-going response is far from it and you wonder what you would do if roles were reversed.

"Maura?"

"Yes?"

"Don't ever doubt how much I care about you, okay? I mean, nobody's perfect… not until you learn to love all their flaws. So in actual fact, you're perfect to me and I'll always love you. No matter what."

"I know." And you do know it. You're just not sure she always knows how to show it.

She kisses your lips again and it feels like an apology. "And I never ever meant to make you feel like I don't take your feelings seriously. I'm just an idiot sometimes; I don't know how to say the right things… But I'll never stop trying, okay?"

"Okay," you nod and give her a peck on the cheek.

She grins. "You hungry? I can make something if you want."

"I just had brunch with the girls."

Dark eyebrows lift and a weird smile appears on her face as she slowly asks, "How _are_ they?"

"They're great. Well, except that Susie lost her voice and Anna's boyfriend had to go back, and the chaos of Riley movi-… uh, they're great."

She does that thing with her eyebrows that tells you she'd prefer it if you hadn't mentioned that name but she wouldn't admit it out loud.

"I'm really just tired though."

Mischief shines in her brown eyes. She easily gathers you in her arms and you automatically wrap your arms behind her neck as she fireman carries you to bed, which was freshly changed before you left. It's one of the things you've always loved that she can do for you, making you feel safe and treasured.

"You comfortable?" she asks after laying you down.

"Yes, thank you. Are you off from work today?"

"Eh… not really," she shrugs. "I just go in later. I don't have to work as many shifts with the new guys."

"Mind if we snuggle until you have to go?"

She scoffs, toeing her sneakers off and climbing in next to you. "_Mind_?"

You roll over smiling as the bed dips and bedclothes shuffle about. And when she spoons you and kisses that spot behind your ear, engulfing you in that warm blanket of familiarity that only she can provide…

You wonder if Jane is a snuggler.

That's the last time you think of your one time lover until a few dramaless weeks later when you're out with Deni at the scene of the crime - Merch. You ask her to take you anywhere but there, but when you can't come up with a good enough reason why, she gives the cabbie the address and promises to take you to a new spot next time.

Stepping in past the bouncer is like experiencing dejavu. You've been here countless times with your friends and girlfriend but you're bombarded by the presence of someone you met here only once before. It's unnerving as you look around and you see her ghost in a flash of long, dark curls walking past you or a bottle of Blue Moon sliding across the bar counter. But the hand that catches it is never hers, nor is it her when any brunette turns around after feeling your stare.

"You okay?" asks Denise with an arm wrapped protectively around your waist when she notices how edgy you are and you're too quick in assuring her you're fine but she doesn't seem to notice, too set on finding you both a place far enough from the ruckus to sit and have your drinks.

When half the night is gone without any actual appearance from the tatted temptress, your relief is a welcome feeling to the point where you forget you were ever anxious. It actually turns out to be one of those perfect nights where you and Denise are both a little tipsy, a little touchy and you know exactly how this night is gonna end, but you're in the mood to dance first and even though she's terrified of looking foolish on the floor, there's no way she's letting you out of her sight. Not when you're in the red dress.

Never in the red dress.

Because it's the siren call that makes those primal urges in a person come out like a full moon to a werewolf. There's just something about this particular one that drives her crazy and you know that she'll be stuck on you like green on grass until she can peel it off of you later.

You've always loved the way she holds you. You're like two pieces of the same puzzle as your arms tighten around her neck and she rests her hands on your hips while following your lead. It actually reminds you a bit of your prom when your date barely moved his feet at all for fear of stepping on your toes, but with considerably less space between the two of you.

She says something silly into your ear and you find yourself laughing out loud into her neck, and when she smiles down at you with glossy onyx orbs and tells you how incredibly sexy you look tonight, you grin at her and peck her smirking lips.

"One more song, then we can leave," you promise and she briefly lifts you off the ground, eliciting a squeal.

"Fine."

Eventually, one more song turns into one more hour of dancing, with her disappearing off every now and then to freshen up your drinks or use the bathroom. The music is at its climax right now and there's a sheen of sweat on your skin from the exertion. You feel like you've got it out of your system now, about ready to leave but when she comes back this time, wrapping her arms around you from behind and kissing that spot behind your ear, the music tunnels out and you can feel the atmospherical shift.

Your exposed back rubs sensually against the fabric of her shirt and you're definitely ready to head out for some dancing of the horizontal variety.

"You have no idea what this dress is doing to me right now," she husks.

And your stomach drops.

That is definitely not your girlfriend's voice.

"J-Jane?" you whisper and it's easily swallowed up in the cacophony of club commotions around you.

And it's instant; that intense pull that makes you gravitate to her has you pressed into her body like you're melting into her instead. It's instant; that rush of sensation prickling on every cell of skin she's touching either with her body or breath. And you're convinced that there's mercury in your blood because your own body heat is suddenly rising, climbing, intensifying exponentially. Your lust has been rippling underneath the surface all night, but now it's personified.

And it sounds like whisky and cigar smoke.

"Wanna get outta here?" she asks, almost panting like she has to physically restrain herself from taking you right here and now.

When your body is so overwhelmed that it leaves you only two choices – fight or flight – you wrench yourself away and disappear towards the restroom, shutting the handicap cubicle door behind you.

You're literally shaking with adrenaline and you don't know what to do with your hands as you pace in circles, but you hope that with a little more time you will have calmed down enough to seek Denise out and make her take you home immediately. You don't know what it is about Jane… but you don't trust yourself around her.

What you didn't count on, though, is your most beautiful nightmare following you into the stall and assaulting your lips the moment she locks you both inside.

Your body's first instinct is to push her away and tell her to stop, but when your open mouth only invites her tongue to probe your own, you find yourself moaning instead. A guttural sound from the deepest darkest part of you reverberates around the small space even as you ball your hands into fists, pushing them against her chest.

She tastes and feels just like she did the last time and your body has already been reprogrammed to respond to her because you already know how good she can make you feel.

Hands on your waist, she smoothly glides her leg in-between your thighs and you have to part from her when your inner muscles clench so hard at the firm contact you wonder if you just came. You push her away so hard that her back slams against the door with a violent bang.

A foot apart, both gasping for air with heaving chests and burning lungs like you just finished the Boston Marathon together, your eyes finally meet for the first time.

Lust-darkened green versus flesh-hungry black in a sexual standoff of grand proportions.

Her expression isn't shocked or angry at all. In fact, if anything, she looks like she craves you even more. You pointedly look away, running a hand through your hair as you curse at the situation.

"You have a filthy mouth, Maura."

"No, I only curse when I'm with-" You pause, considering her with suspicious eyes when you realize what she just said. "You know my name?"

She lifts an eyebrow. "Of course I know your name."

A ridiculous embarrassment creeps up on you at your assumption that just because you couldn't remember _her_ name, that she didn't care enough to remember yours either.

"Don't you remember me? I didn't realize you were that wasted."

"No, I… I remember you quite clearly… Jane."

She smirks, "Yeah? How clearly exactly?"

Disjointed images flash before your mind's eye and the hitch in your breath is all the answer she needs.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you either."

And suddenly you're angry. "Don't."

She comes closer and you step back. "Don't what?"

"Don't say _that_. I can't- Why did you have to follow me?" You shake your head vigorously as you shoulder her aside to yank the door open.

The large restroom mirror immediately stares back at you mockingly, pointing out the messed up nature of your make-up and hair from this brief encounter, and you almost walk right out anyway just so you aren't in the same room as-

"Oh, there you are."

Your body tenses like a fist at the sound of Denise's gleeful entrance and you silently pray to any deity that will listen, that Jane stays inside that handicap stall, with the solemn promise that you'll convert as soon as you can escape this personal Hell.

She plays with a strand of your hair, grinning at you like you're missing the joke in all of this. "Wow, you worked up quite a sweat out there. Ready to go home yet?"

You give a tight smile glancing between her and the cubicle door via their reflections before you and nod. "Yes, I…" you swallow when the door swings slightly. "How about you meet me in the cab. I'll be right out."

And that, apparently, is Jane's cue to strut right out herself.

Your eyes immediately lock and you glance away just as swiftly, glad that Denise seems to not have noticed her presence just yet. Not until Jane sidles up right beside you leaning towards the mirror swiping a thumb across her lips to check if she got all your lipstick off of her.

With your never-ending one-night stand on your left and your oblivious recurring girlfriend on your right, there has never been a more awkward moment in your entire life.

"Nah, I'll wait for you," says Denise deciding she wants to wash her hands, and this moment is destined to be milked for all it's worth.

Jane doesn't look at you again and you make sure you don't look at her either as she finally heads for the exit. Her hand twists the handle.

"Don't I… know you from somewhere?" asks Denise, and Jane stops – turns around. "It's just, you look a little familiar."

You keep your eyes down as you fix your appearance, movements in slow-mo as you wait for this scene to play out. Could they possibly know each other?

"You tell me," says Jane.

"I dunno, you just have one of those faces, I guess."

"Must be…"

"Yeah…" You hear the door handle twist again and the hinges creak slightly. "Wait, no. Now I know. You're at the station, right?"

The creaking stops.

"BPD?"

"Yeah," your girlfriend concurs, sounding a little too excited. "You came in with Crowe and them, right?"

"Yeah, just started a few weeks ago."

"Well, nice to finally meet you. I'm Rockmond." That's how she always introduces herself.

You watch them shake hands and it's an outer body experience.

"Rizzoli."

"Yeah, Rizzoli," Denise keeps nodding, recognition in her voice. "I've heard some stuff about you."

You catch Jane's eyes flicker towards you for a split second. "Only good things, I hope."

They laugh. "Absolutely. You were a bit of a hero in New York. I can't believe they let you go."

"Yeah well, it wasn't really their choice. Besides, I needed the change of scenery, you know?"

"Yeah, I can totally get that. Have you been here the entire night? I didn't see you."

"I know how to be discreet," she says to you, although she is talking to her.

"Right… right. This is my girlfriend, by the way. Maura."

You both plaster smiles onto your faces sharing a subtle nod, although hers is less strained. She didn't even falter at the word girlfriend and you get the feeling that Jane is very good at navigating awkward situations, which makes you wish you could say the same for yourself.

"I'll see y'all around." She walks out without a backwards glance and you can't help the sigh that escapes you.

Denise focuses back on you and smiles. "Someone's eager to go, I see."

"I thought she'd never leave." The words are out of your mouth before you can help it.

She laughs belly-deep and you blush. "Then let's get out of here."

"Okay."

"Your place or mine?"

"Yours," you reply.

And the only reason you would ever opt to go to her place is because you need to go somewhere that hasn't yet been tainted by the mind-numbing, heart-stopping, knee-weakening presence and erotic essence of Jane Rizzoli.

**I-A-I**


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

You're late.

You've never been late for anything in your life; even your birth was premature, but for some reason you've picked today of all days to be an hour 'tardy for the party'.

"Ah, so you've decided to join us after all?" is Susie's greeting as you pull up to the curb, parking in front of the apartment block. You unbuckle your seatbelt and climb out of your car with a thousand apologies on your lips – of which Riley is having exactly none.

"Mmhmm…" she hums, arms crossed over her chest with a sassy hip tooch'd to the side.

"Ri, I'm _so_ sorry."

"Where you been, girl?" asks Anna, dusting off the butt of her denim overalls as she gets up from the porch steps where they had been seated, waiting. "We've been trying your cell all morning."

"I must have slept through it…" You dig around your purse for the object in question, trailing off when you realize- "Oh, great. I must've forgotten it at Deni's."

Riley lifts an eyebrow and walks away with an unimpressed, "Hm!"

You let her because you know that while you were busy doing the walk of shame, they've all been here since six in the morning, cleaning the place out in preparation for Riley's big move into her first apartment. It was postponed for a while longer when you all realized that the girl hadn't even prepared for it properly, so you took it upon yourself to co-ordinate the whole thing.

The past couple of weekends have been spent sorting through all the junk Riley owns and packing it away methodically into many, many boxes. She's a closeted hoarder, you learned, but instead of having to wait weeks or more for a U-Haul to avail itself, it's a lucky thing that Anna happens to have an uncle with an old truck which could be used to move everything, so that's where it all had to stay after the new apartment's previous tenant turned in his keys.

Planning the move probably took up more time and energy than the actual move itself will consume, but today is very important to your friend so you feel terrible about being late. You know she's stressed out enough as it is, even though she'd deny it, especially since all of her sisters and cousins are either too far away or busy to come and help out. But at least they bought and donated a lot of things for the apartment. Which means it's going to be a long day for the M.A.R.S girls.

Susie quietly approaches with a takeaway coffee for you in hand. "You know, it wouldn't have been such a big deal if you weren't the only one who understood those 'weird stupid labels' on the boxes," she air quotes, head tilting towards Riley to show who she's quoting.

You accept the beverage offering with a distracted reply as you look around. "The QR codes were only generated so we could all scan them with our phones and know exactly what was inside each of them before they're brought in, but the rest of it is pretty straight-forward... and where's the truck?"

"Ask Anna."

"He said he's on his way," she wiggles her phone having just received an IM from her uncle. "He's just getting more coffee."

You try not to grimace as you swallow a sip of your cold caffeine beverage, wondering when exactly they'd bought it. "Okay, well in the meantime I'll go ask the apartment manager if we can hold the service elevator until we're done."

"Good idea," says Susie, to which Riley sarcastically adds, "And good luck. Stanley's a hard-ass."

And sure enough, he is. Especially in the morning. By the time you've haggled with that Grinch of a man for permission to use the idle service elevator for a couple of hours, almost a quarter of your friend's stuff is already out on the sidewalk. The scene is actually a bit chaotic with Ri and Suz randomly stacking little boxes from the container onto the furniture dolly as fast as they can and placing them on the ground while Anna distractedly multitasks, catching up with her Mom's brother about some upcoming family reunion that her boyfriend is invited to. You start to worry when you see a box on the ground with a 'This Way Up' arrow facing down. Time for an intervention.

You hold your fingers up to your mouth and do what Riley taught you, generating a loud, piercing whistle to get everyone's attention. It works.

"Ladies, if I could have your attention? The elevator's ready, so let's bring stuff in. And remember: boxes with blue stickers go in the bedroom, green goes in the living room area, red is for the kitchen, and be careful of anything labelled fragile or heavy; heavy's _always_ under something else lighter. And really now, 'this way up' uses the sky as a reference." You wait a beat, then hear a quiet _'my bad'_ from Anna. "Now, if we could just get all the big furniture in first, please."

And so it begins.

Furniture is wiped and dusted off before the hand trolley wheels it to the elevator and goes upstairs, then all the boxes are brought in the same way and put into their color-specified rooms, and only once everything is inside is it time to bring out the boxcutters and unpack.

That's when Anna decides to put some music on; a little moving-themed playlist she made for the occasion. Riley rolls her eyes at her when _Reel to Real's_ 'I Like To Move It' comes on, but you all end up singing along. Having a bit of background noise helps break up the monotony of the task as you all labor away until the streetlights come on. The music and uninterrupted unpacking are also quite effective at blocking out your mind from driving you crazy with thoughts about your run-in with a certain brunette.

Later, finally having harvested all of the un-reusable trash throughout the new home and delivered it to the various recycling bins downstairs, you follow Anna and Riley out of the elevator, down the hallway past a few doors… 201… 202… 203… 204 and re-enter the second-floor apartment. At the tail of the pack, you're the last to hear a simmering sizzle cut above the moving melodies of _Midnight Train To Georgia_, accompanying the delightful smell permeating the air.

You all moan like a starving choir.

"Chang!" exclaims Riley, "I could kiss you right now. With tongue."

"Uh…" Susie chuckles softly from her spot in the kitchen as she chops vegetables like the top chefs she idolizes on the Food Network.. "I'm good, thanks."

Kneeling on the couch and leaning her arms over the back to watch her in action, Anna's lips pout with longing. "Oh, my Gosh. I'm so hungry I was about to go all Hannibal on all your skinny asses."

"Well, you won't have to. Just ten more minutes and I'll be done."

Foregoing the couch altogether, you plop down on your back onto the mattress in the middle of the living room floor. You aren't exactly sure what it's still doing here in place of the coffee table, after finally assembling the bed frame, but you're still glad it's right here right now. "Wake me up when it's time to go," you mumble to no one in particular, more excited by the prospect of getting proper rest for the first time in over 36 hours. Your exhausted body immediately sighs thank you.

Then you feel the shuffle and warmth of a body drop onto the bed beside you to snuggle into you with a contented sigh and you manage a tired laugh. "Does this mean I'm forgiven for being late?"

She hums. "_This_ means you're a great pillow… I was never really mad at you, c'mon."

"Good."

"Just stressed, you know."

"Mm."

"Mm… Thanks for doing this. I didn't realize how much work it would be."

"You're more than welcome. And despite some of your more questionable décor choices-"

"Uh-uh, says the girl with the weird African masks on her wall…?"

"I was about to give you a compliment."

"Then don't start it with an insult."

"Okay, okay. The place looks very lovely."

"Thank you," she sighs deeply. "Real T though, I've been living out of a carry-on for the past few weeks so I don't even care what the rest of the place looks like – I have a closet!"

You chuckle at her exhausted excitement. "That, you do."

"Technically though," starts Anna's voice as she joins you both down there, "you've been living out of _my_ closet. I'm pretty sure about a third of the clothes in there belong to me."

Riley scoffs but is unable to dispute. "Please don't ruin the moment with semantics."

"Just sayin'…" she shrugs as she lies down on Riley's other side with a huff. "I… could… lie… here… forever."

"Mm-mm, you bitches better be out by the time you're fed. This ain't no bed and breakfast."

"I know _that_; that's why we aren't paying."

"I think we've paid our dues," says a disembodied voice from the kitchen and the light banter continues on without your input as you dose off.

You didn't realize how tired you were until you're reluctantly awoken by something. A thud? Bang? Something. Followed by footsteps and laughing.

More footsteps and giggles approach from Riley's bedroom as you contemplate finally re-opening your eyes.

"…just as well we left the bed here then."

"Ha! I knew you didn't know what you were doing, Miss '_I used to date a guy who worked at IKEA_'. You don't see _me_ building weapons, do you?"

"Whatevs. I'll fix it tomorrow."

"Yeah right. But anyway, as I was saying," Anna sighs as they sit back on the bed. "The fam keeps pushing and they keep hinting at us getting hitched, and B keeps encouraging them, and I'm like, what the Hell, people? I'm still only 22! I mean, I love the guy to death, but I'm not about that life."

"Yet…"

"Exactly, not right now. Or even soon."

"Not _never_, just not until your career's on track."

"Right, Suz. I mean, if he doesn't mind being engaged for another three… five years, then great. He can put a ring on it. I don't mind wearing a big-ass rock on my finger."

She holds her left hand up, palm out as if admiring the phantom jewel.

"Well," says Riley, "I don't think you should even consider it. I mean, look what happened to the Smiths… and the Khalifas."

They laugh hysterically. "Good point…"

"Hey, look who's finally awake. I knew the wine would rouse you," says a rosy-cheeked Susie when they finally notice your conscious presence.

"What time is it?" you croak, wiping a bit of drool with the back of your hand as your eyes adjust to the fluorescent light.

"Here, lemme go heat up your food."

"It's only eight, relax," informs Anna, "You looked like you needed the nap."

"What she needs is to hibernate. Look at those $500 bags under her eyes."

Anna throws her head back in laughter, swaying a bit as she smacks Riley's arm for being a meanie. That's when you take note of an empty bottle of wine on the floor… next to a half-full bottle of the same.

"Probably didn't get much sleep on date night, huh?"

"And, I mean, how the hell did you move into your place all by yourself? It's so much work."

You stretch languidly, contemplating falling back asleep. "I hired professional movers. Even got a student discount."

"Did you get any sleep at all last night?"

You shake your head slowly, suddenly flashing back to the night before. "Last night was… weird."

Riley's gossip radar goes through the roof. "Anna, pour the girl some wine. She looks like she needs it."

"Mm," she concurs, "You might be onto something there."

As Anna obliges, you get yourself into a more comfortable spot and gratefully accept the disposable plate offered up to you. Riley wasn't about to do dishes any time soon.

"You okay, M?" asks Susie when she settles back down. "You look a little freaked out."

You shake your head a little dismissively when Ri and Anna look at you too, but on second thought you just say it anyway. "No, I just… I saw her again…"

"Honey, you're gonna have to be more specific."

"Jane."

They all seem to ponder it and Anna is eventually the first to register recognition. "Wait, Jane as in that girl you took home from Merch?"

"Would that be '_no pick-up lines, bordering on 50 Shades_' Jane?" asks Susie.

"Oh, you mean '_tatted out, made ya squirt_' Jane?" is Riley's contribution to the illustration.

Well, at least you know they remember.

"Yes… _Jane_."

"What happened?"

"I… She kissed me," you shrug, voice suddenly a squeak.

Silence.

"Am I the only one confused? Did this happen just now in your dreams?" asks your College classmate.

"No, last night. At Merch."

Anna gasps, slowly putting pieces together. "With Denise there?"

"She was at the bar. I thought it was her when I felt someone behind me but it wasn't."

"What did you do?"

"I ran to the restroom! I panicked… But she followed me inside and... that's when it happened."

"Oh, my gosh. Please don't tell me you guys did it in the bathroom with Denise out there!"

"Come on, Anna. She would never do that…" Susie turns to you, "…right?"

"Of course not! I pushed her away and…" You cover your face with both hands and groan out loud.

"Pass her the rest of the bottle," says your hostess, "Looks like she needs it more than we do."

"While I was fixing my make-up, Denise walked in."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah, that's exactly what I was thinking when Jane walked out of the stall, wiping my lipstick from her mouth. And that's not even the worst part."

"Please don't tell me they fought or something stupid like that."

You snort, almost wishing that was the case instead. "No, I wasn't that lucky. It turns out that Jane is also a police officer."

"No shit. They work together?"

"They work together. And we pretended we've never met before." Saying that out loud makes you irrationally bothered, because it seemed so easy for Jane to go from saying she couldn't stop thinking about you one minute, to acting like you are strangers the next. You know you're being irrational because if Jane hadn't been so cool in that situation, who knows what would have gone down in that bathroom. How did she remain so calm and unruffled when you were on the edge of imploding?

"You know what this means though, right?"

The question ejects you from your internal musings and you realize you've been drinking straight from the bottle when you have to wipe a few escaped drops of wine from your chin. "What?"

"Denise can never know about that night."

"What? No way, M. You have to come clean."

Anna looks at Susie like she just asked if dogs have brains because they can't speak. "Are you serious right now?"

"Of course I am. Secrets should have no place in a healthy relationship."

"Of course they do. Right inside the 'self-preservation' box."

Before a debate erupts, you set the scene. "Denise already knows about that night. She just doesn't know that this is _thee_ Jane."

"Then you should come clean about it. Wouldn't you wanna know if she'd slept with one of your colleagues?"

"I suppose…"

"But don't you think that's just setting everyone up for the most awkward situation? Hear me out. Whenever you bump into Jane, Denise will go ballistic. You know how she gets. And on top of that, them working together will be a nightmare. I can't see why it has to be a thing if you only want to be with Denise."

"That didn't stop Jane from kissing her," adds Susie, and Anna sighs.

"Maybe she didn't know Maura isn't single anymore."

"Well, what if she did?"

"I dunno… I kinda wanna see how this plays out."

"Thanks, Ri, you're a big help."

"Whataya want me to say, you know? I mean, you have a girlfriend, who you love, so why is this even an issue? Are you just worried they'll bump into each other? _Unless_… there's a part of you that wanted to go home with Jane last night."

You immediately wave the insinuation away, shaking your head at her for saying such a thing, but as the moment drags on without your verbal response, you realize you're only shaking your head at yourself… for not being able to lie.

You get up. "I need to use the bathroom," is the excuse you throw over your shoulder and while you walk away, you maybe hear Anna call Riley a 'downright bitch sometimes' before resuming her earlier little argument with Susie. You aren't really paying attention though, as you flip the outside light switch and shut the bathroom door behind you, only stopping to sit on the closed toilet lid.

Leaning your elbows on your knees, you inhale deeply before quickly expelling the air from your lungs.

You hate feeling like this. Muddled up and confused. You are a creature of habit, and therefore you know yourself pretty well. And you really believed it too twenty-four hours ago. But for someone who's usually known to be calm and collected, you've turned anxious and scatter-brained. Maybe it's because Jane, for you, represents a crazy night on which you couldn't have been any further out of character; an almost out-of-body experience, but still _you_ somehow. Dr. Jeckyll and Ms. Hyde status.

Sigh. You're being ridiculous. Things don't have to be so complicated. Next time you see Jane, you're going to lay down the law so she'll behave and these confusing feelings can fade out on their own. It's obviously only a combination of your own biological processes at work here which have tricked a part of your brain to form a slight attachment to your one-time sexual partner. It will pass. There's no need to overanalyse it. What's important is that your (proverbial) heart is with Denise. End of story.

Speaking of which, you find yourself coming up empty when you go for your pocket to seek your phone – Denise should have called by now – but then remember you don't have it on you. You don't usually go so long without talking to her unless you're broken up. The last time you saw her she was dead asleep face-down on her pillow with her naked body in the formation of a starfish. The adorable image brings a smile to your face. Yeah, last night wasn't _all_ bad.

A sharp scream startles you and you mentally curse the girls for whatever shenanigans they're up to out there. You've been in here long enough now though, so you just wash your hands and moisturize them out of habit before exiting.

"Stop! Stop it, you guys! Get off of me!" laughs Susie and you wonder what they're up to.

Suddenly, a series of bangs are heard on the front door as you slowly make your way down the short hallway. It sounds too aggressive to be for a friendly visit, but you never know with Coop.

Stomping over to the door, the hostess forgoes looking through the peephole as she swings the door open, annoyed. "What!" she barks.

Everyone freezes. Riley at the door, Anna and Susie mid-tickle-fight on the bed, and you – right around the corner.

"Uh… hey," greets the visitor.

And you could literally die.

**I-A-I**


End file.
